


Please Stay

by PlumBat



Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: AmRev, American Revolution, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Masturbation, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5515283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlumBat/pseuds/PlumBat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharing a small tent with his best friend, Alex feels painfully alone. But John may not be as untouchable as he thinks. </p><p>Can be considered a sequel to Branded. </p><p>PG-13 for non-explicit masturbation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Stay

It was the second time this week. Alex lay as still as he could, willing his breathing to maintain the even cadence of a faux sleep. From the bedroll not three feet away from his own, a soft, rhythmic rustling betrayed John’s movements. It had been going on like this for ten minutes, slow and steady.

Alex’s whole body felt warm, especially his face and his crotch. This was pure torture, such as no man should have to endure. Slowly, carefully, he turned his head in John’s direction. In the dim illumination from the firelight that came in under the edges of their small tent, he could see his friend’s silhouetted form, turned away from him. His position mostly obscured his movements, save for the tell-tale motion of his elbow.

Over and over, he resolved to say something or do something – pretend to have to use the latrine, cough loudly – anything to interrupt this shameful spying on what was clearly meant to be a secret act.

He remained motionless.

After an eternity, the rustling from John’s bedroll began to come faster. Without even meaning to move his hand, Alex found that he was pressing against his own sex through his nightshirt, then rubbing. He kept his movements as small as he could, trying to make less sound than his tent-mate.

John’s quiet but distinct “ah!” of pleasure pierced the air, and the rustling ceased. Alex froze, feeling his flesh throbbing in frustrated need. He laid there, still as a statue, until finally he heard John softly snoring. Then he set back to work on himself. His climax was fast, hard, and as silent as he could make it.

As he shuddered with the last of his release, he was surprised to feel tears staining his cheeks. While his body was suffused with pleasure, his heart felt bereft, like there was a sucking hole in the center of his chest. He ached to reach out to his slumbering friend. The knowledge that he could not left him with a desperate loneliness.

The sense of a void was so acutely familiar, and his self-control so frayed, that another pain, long ignored, unexpectedly hit him full force. A vision of white-washed walls and blue sky flashed into his mind. He could practically smell the heavy sea-salt air of the Caribbean and taste the acid tang of his own vomit. He sat upright with a jolt, gasping.

He didn’t hear John get up, but suddenly the other man was kneeling beside him, one hand on his shoulder. John was saying something, but his own ragged breathing was too loud in his ears for Alex to catch it.

The vision was gone, and the void retreated with it. He focused on John’s touch, willing his tense muscles to relax and his breathing to calm. He could make out the other man’s voice clearly now.

“Shh, Alex. Alex, it’s alright. It’s alright. What’s wrong?”

There were so many things he could say in answer to that, but all of them withered in his throat. Instead, he reached out the hand opposite from where John was touching him, clasped the other man into a half-embrace, and buried his face into the crook of John’s neck.

They stayed like that in silence for a long moment, John’s skin warm against his own. Then John shifted, wrapping him up in his arms and gently pulling them both down onto the bedroll. Their faces were a mere inch apart. Not allowing himself to think about what he was doing, Alex closed the gap and pressed his mouth to John’s.

He felt John’s lips part, as if in surprise. The other man pulled away slightly, then was back almost immediately, returning the kiss with a passion that felt carefully restrained. The warmth and sweetness of it melted all thoughts from Alex’s mind. For a long time, they simply held each other and explored one another’s lips and mouths. John’s stubble was rough against his own smooth face, and Alex relished the feeling.

Finally, as their kisses slowed, Alex told himself that he had to say something. Had to find the right words to keep John at his side, to keep the void from opening back up to swallow him. Phrases formed and reformed in his mind. Explanations, justifications. In the end, he said, simply, “please stay.”

John didn’t reply in words, merely clung tighter to him and nuzzled his neck. They fell fast asleep that way, wrapped in one another’s arms.


End file.
